Bartender
by Morphy
Summary: Loving someone from afar can be difficult; there is always the fear of losing the perfection you created in your head and fell in love with. Is the real thing ever worth the risk? AH One-shot AlicexBella Bellice.


**A/N I'm back again so soon this must be a record. If you didn't know I've started a new chapter based story a AlicexLeah pairing called Run please check it out. A song called 'Bartender' by The Royalty inspired this story. Big thanks to my beta Beetlebum101 for putting up with all my misplaced commas.**

_I'm in love with the bartender_, I said in my mind every time I saw her and tonight was no different. _I'm in love with the bartender._ I got caught up in watching her. She was great at what she did, she had a smile that broke hearts and a voice that could melt stone, but I didn't even know her name. I was too much of a coward to ask so I just watched her.

"I can't believe he is here tonight. I'm not going to talk to him… I'm not," Rosalie repeated, talking again about her on-again, off-again boyfriend. I was just glad that when she stared at him, I could look at _her_.

I glanced at the empty glass bottles with a smile. "Do you need another?" I asked Rose, already getting up out of the booth. She just nodded, checking her phone.

I headed for the far end of the bar, knowing she would serve me. I paused, taking out some cash and holding it in my hand. She was busy chatting with another bartender. He was a messy-haired guy with a baby face and skinny jeans that were a tad too skinny. He talked his opinions loudly and openly – usually about gay things – in a flamboyantly gay manner. I found that rather interesting and a part of me wished I was more like him, to be able to live life for myself and say, 'fuck it,' to everyone else.

I could hear him from where I stood as he poured drinks. "Don't tell me Sesame Street wasn't, like, the gayest street ever. And my parents wonder why I'm gay."

She just laughed, shaking her head. Her eyes then connected with mine and she flashed a toothy grin.

"Hey, baby, what you looking for?" She leaned over the bar.

I forced myself to look her in the eye and not down her shirt, but my eyes followed her silver chain to a cross resting between her breasts and I gulped. Her shirt was torn down from neck to cleavage and the silver cross gleamed like a beacon of sin. My eyes flashed back to hers. "Two Coronas."

Her mouth slanted into a line before flashing back to a smile. "You want a lime with that, baby?"

She always called me _baby_ and I never asked why. I just liked it and went with it. I guessed she did it with everyone so she didn't have to remember names. "You know it."

I came here at least once a week; I would have thought she'd have it memorized.

"Coming right up," she said, with a wink that made me swoon.

She wore midnight black skinny jeans that matched her hair – that hair that looked like she just rolled out of bed or, 'freshly fucked hair,' as Rosalie would call it. She bent over to grab the beer from the fridge, never crouching, always bending from the hips. It gave the perfect view of her… assets that would have me pulling the labels off my bottles all night long.

She placed the beers in front of me and I noticed that her hand always lingered for a second. I loved that she had a tattoo on her left wrist of a quarter moon. It was a simple, black outline and I always wanted to ask what it meant.

"Thanks," I spoke, grabbing the bottles by the neck, the cold seeping into my palms. She took the money from the bar, looking it over quickly.

We exchanged glances, the ones that made me fall in love with her a little bit more. The kind that made me want to wake up next to her and make her French toast on Sunday mornings. I returned to Rosalie, placing the beer on the table with a dull thud as she gave an exhausted sigh.

"When are you going to ask her out?" Rosalie repeated for the hundredth time.

I stared at my bottle, peeling the edge of the label with my thumbnail.

"I told you, Rose, she doesn't like me. If she did, she would have asked _me_ out."

"Bullshit!" Rosalie slammed down the bottle, making the table shake. "You don't have any balls. You are ball-less. You are void of balls."

"Yeah, I get it. I'm scared, okay? If she says no then I know for sure she doesn't like me. At least this way I live in a world where she likes me and doesn't like me at the same time."

Rosalie rolled her head to face me, looking me in the eye with a harsh glare. "You aren't Schrodinger's fucking cat, you need to live in the now."

"Like you and Emmett are any better," I spat back.

"Hey, I know more than anyone that we have our problems. We are both hot-headed people." Rosalie picked up the bottle, pointing it at me before she took another swig. "But the sex is _amazing_." She closed her eyes with a groan.

I did not want to know what she was thinking about right now. I let my eyes go back to the bartender. She danced around the bar to the sort of blues/jazz music that was playing. I let my head fall against the back of the booth, as Rosalie continued to talk about Emmett. I had heard it all before so it went in one ear and out the other.

"God, you need to get laid," Rosalie said.

"Shut up, Rose."

"Look at all the paper on this table." She gestured to the previous peeled-off labels that were now rolled up and littering the table. "I could write my fucking memoirs."

That was the thing about Rosalie; she never met a fuck she didn't like. I let her continue. "Better yet, you can write your tales of a lonely virgin."

"I'm not a virgin, Rose." I looked at her in disbelief. I knew that she knew I wasn't.

"Ohh, really? How long has it been since you last did it?"

I did not want to be having this conversation. "Like, a year? I don't know, I don't keep track." As I spoke, little drops of water hit me in the face and then I realized it wasn't water. Rosalie had flicked beer at me.

"I now make you a born again virgin."

"What the fuck, Rose? It isn't like a baptism." I wiped the spots beer from my face. "You can't just start proclaiming things to be true."

"Go talk to her or I'll ask her to take your born again virginity."

Knowing Rose, I knew she would do it, too. What would be the worst thing if I asked her out? She could say no and smash my heart in a thousand, tiny pieces. I weighed the options in my head, coming up empty again, so I did what I knew: I drank. I finished my beer so I could go and fall back into the brief moments of contact we had that made me feel a little bit less alone.

Rosalie hadn't even finished but she was close so I didn't bother asking; she knew where I was going. There was no line at the bar and she saw me coming, leaning against the back of the bar, arms crossed over her chest.

"Miss me already?" She said, as I rested my hands against the wood.

"Ooooh, you know me; couldn't keep myself away." The banter always got bolder the more beer I had in my system.

"Is it just because of me? Or because I am so conveniently located where all the beer is?" She leaned over the bar, getting so close she was almost whispering in my ear.

I had a flash of a thought to just grab her by the collar and kiss her, smashing her lips into mine, while the whole bar cheered. But that was just a fantasy. I laughed, thinking of a witty come back. "It's a bit of both. I do enjoy two good things together for convenience; like the clock-radio or the spork."

That made her giggle. "Two Coronas with lime?" She asked.

"Hey, that's my line." I acted hurt.

"Sorry," she laughed, running her hand along her jaw, almost wiping the smile from her mouth.

"It's okay. And, yes, that's what I was about to order. I swear you could tell the future. Are you a mind reader?"

"No such luck, but I _can_ make two beers appear." She sauntered off to the fridge. As she got close, the other bartender with the skinny jeans nudged her with his hip and it looked like he was whispering something and they exchanged quiet glances. She frowned at him, shaking her head, no. The music was too loud to really hear anything they were saying.

"Here you go, two beers." Her voice changed and the playful banter had somewhat disappeared.

I held the money out and when she grasped it, the tips of our fingers overlapped for a split second. It was a sort of slight shock that made me jump and a blush appeared on my cheeks instantly from the embarrassment of being shocked by such a trivial thing.

"Thanks," I whispered and turned around, beer in both hands, looking for Rosalie, only to see our empty booth with a bunch of empty bottles. As I scanned the rest of the bar I noticed Emmett was gone to.

I put the beers back on the bar and checked my phone. One missed text from Rose:

**Couldn't help myself, left with Em. Grow some balls and ask the girl out. **

Part of me wondered if I should be concerned over Rosalie's obsession with the word _balls_. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

"Something wrong?" She asked, as I tucked the phone back in my pocket.

"My so called _friend_ just abandoned me to go and sleep with her on-again, off-again boyfriend… and she was my ride."

"That sucks."

I stared at the two beers. "Do you want one of these?" I asked her.

"Sorry, I can't. I'm still on shift for another fifteen minutes." She looked at the clock behind her on the wall.

"What… What about after that?" I stuttered out, staring into the grain of the bar.

"Sure, why not?" I looked up to meet her eyes and I wanted to ask _really?_ But I also wanted to appear cool and in control.

"Cool, I'll just wait here." I took a seat at the bar, tapping at the wood and taking small sips from my beer.

It wasn't the kind of place I minded drinking alone. It was sort of a dive but I liked that it meant the beer was cheap and it was never very busy.

I watched her as she filled orders, not overly staring but just noticing. She went over to a few guys about my age, taking their orders. She didn't call them 'baby' and wasn't overly chatty, but she was trying to finish up.

One of the boys with slicked back, blond hair scribbled his number on a napkin and he handed it to her as he walked away. She walked up to this end of the bar, looking at the napkin and I had to imagine this happened a lot. I didn't want to be just another number on a napkin. She crumpled it up, throwing it in the trash.

"Not the one?" I asked.

She turned around, slightly surprised from my voice. "Not my type… if you know what I mean," she said with a wink, as she began to clear away glasses and bottles.

I blushed again, cursing my genetics and putting a cold hand on my cheek, trying to mask the redness.

"Plus, I already agreed to have a drink with a cute girl."

"Well, let me know when she gets here; I will leave you two alone." I took another swig for courage.

She just laughed it off.

"You know, I've been coming here for over a year and I don't even know your name," I admitted, somewhat sadly.

"I'm Alice, and I'm ready for that drink." She took the bottle, necking half of it rather impressively.

"Wow, you did need that drink," I sighed.

"Let's sit in a booth." She hopped over the bar in a graceful, sweeping manoeuvre that left my mouth gaping. "Edward, I'm finished up," she called to the other bartender and he just smiled like an idiot for some reason.

"I'm Bella, by the way," I added, as I followed her to the booth Rosalie and I previously shared.

"I thought the blond might have been your girlfriend; I always see you two together."

It gave me a shiver to know she had maybe noticed me as much as I noticed her.

"Me and Rose?" I spat, with a laugh. "God, no way. She is great and my best friend, but she is crazy. I guess that's why she is my best friend; she brings me out of my shell. I'm a little shy sometimes."

"I can tell," Alice noted, but not in a judgemental sort of way. "I thought you would never ask me out. I was beginning to think you were straight." Alice spoke with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Heaven forbid."

"Heaven probably does forbid it but that's ok. All the cool people will be in hell," Alice laughed.

I got the impression she wore a cross as a sort of ironic statement. Or maybe she just liked crosses. She tapped the bottle with a ring on her finger, making a light musical noise, like a melody for how she spoke, and every so often would fling her hair back.

"This might sound dumb but I was afraid. You seem so perfect. I was afraid that I made it all up inside my head because no one as perfect as you could exist. When I noticed things about you, it was real. I saw you. When relationships begin it hides too much. I hate hiding; I did it for too long. I just wanted to keep the real you, but then there is only really so much you can notice from a distance. You know, like a psychopath fantasy can only sustain you for so long." Alice's eyes widened as I replayed what I had said. I let my head fall into my hands, covering my eyes, hoping the world would swallow me whole. "I know, I just heard it… I'm sorry. I swear I'm not a psycho."

"You're not making me feel reassured," she admitted, but I don't think I had scared her too much.

"I'm sorry. You make me nervous and when I'm nervous, I can't think."

"Why do I make you nervous?"

"Because you are so beautiful and cool and I'm… so not."

Alice _aw'd_ slightly, the way you would at a baby animal. "You don't give yourself enough credit. Would it make you feel better if I told you I check you out every time you walk away from the bar?"

I froze, unsure of what to say. All the blood left my head and took up place in my cheeks. "Uhh… Thanks. So, why didn't you ask me out, then?"

"I thought you come here so often you might be an alcoholic and I didn't need the drama," Alice joked.

"I'm not an alcoholic. You are the one that works at a bar. I should be worried that you _aren't_ an alcoholic. Access to all this booze… You obviously don't know how to seize an opportunity."

"Maybe I don't…" She murmured, taking another sip.

A bell rang, signalling last call, pulling me from what I wanted to say next. "I guess I should get going," I said, somewhat forlorn.

"I could walk home with you. I don't live that far from you."

I searched my head to see if I had said where I lived and I couldn't find it. "How do you know where I live?"

"I've seen your I.D. remember, Isabella." My name rolled off her tongue. I usually hated my name but not the way she said it.

"Sure, that would be great," I smiled, sliding out of the booth.

We walked over to the door and a small coat rack covered in fabric and a few forgotten umbrellas. She pulled on a slate grey pea coat, fastening it up, leaving a few buttons at the top undone. She waved to Edward and he waved a dishcloth back.

As soon as I opened the door, the wind chilled my bones and I held the door open for Alice, who visibly shivered. I pushed my hands deep into my leather jacket. The stars shimmered and the full moon made it just that little bit lighter. Alice was the first to break the silence.

"So, in the interest of truth and not hiding, let's speak about the four things that run deepest with people."

"What are those?" I realised I had quickened slightly and slowed my pace to walk in line with her.

Alice placed a hand on my elbow, wedging it slightly between my arm and my body as we walked and it felt nice; people would look at us and think we were a couple.

"Politics, money, education and family," she listed off.

I was slightly afraid that after I knew these things, she wouldn't be the same person I fell in love with from afar. That she would fall from this pedestal I had built in my mind. But I reminded myself that no-one was perfect and like Rose said, I had to live in the now.

"Should I answer them all now or do you want to take turns?" I asked, my breath clouding in the bitter air.

"Turns," she replied.

"Ok… I'm a democrat," I said, simply, and I doubted her answer would be different.

"Same," she replied.

"Okay, one down," I smiled. "Ugh, right, money. I'm okay, I guess. Not rich. I don't need a lot of money."

"I have enough to feed my shopping addiction and my collection of vintage typewriters. So far, I have one."

I had to laugh. She was a hipster. "You're a hipster."

"I am not!" She smacked my arm, lightly.

"Of course you would say that. A hipster couldn't call themselves a hipster. It's too mainstream."

We fell into a quiet laughter. The streets were quiet and it echoed our quiet footfalls.

"So, family," I continued. "Only child, mom lives in Phoenix with her husband of five years and my dad lives in Forks, just an hour away from here, with his girlfriend. You?"

"Ohh, swings!" Her eyes burned bright with excitement when she spotted the small park. Her hand slipped away from my body, taking the warmth with it.

"What are you, twelve?" I called after her.

She looked over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out as I followed her. She stood on the swing with her feet, swinging it high with the rhythm of her body. I sat quietly on the swing next to hers, wrapping my fingers around the freezing, steel chain. Alice jumped off, landing with a dull thud on the soft, black padded ground. She took the seat, mirroring my pose. Her cheeks were flushed red; it seemed even more striking against her porcelain skin. Her jaw line was sharp and her features small and I let myself get caught up in the thought of kissing her.

"Edward is my brother," she said, pulling me from my thoughts. "He's not my brother in the biological sense; I was adopted by his family when I was six." I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. "I was lucky to find such a loving family. To be wanted."

I felt as if she had let me see a sliver of vulnerability and it dawned on me that she might have nightmares as well as dreams.

"I can't imagine anyone not wanting you, Alice," I whispered.

She began to swing again and I couldn't see her face. She scraped her feet against the ground, a look of excitement suddenly appearing on her face.

"I know what we should do!" she exclaimed, standing up. "We should dance."

"Alice, there is no music."

"So? Why should that stop us?" She held out a hand.

I stared at her outstretched hand and I would be a liar if I said I didn't take it just so I could feel her skin against mine again. Alice pulled hard, bringing me into her and then lifting my hand above her head, doing a little twirl. What was this girl doing to me? She danced on a whim and made me crazy and I wanted more. I wanted it to never end. I pulled her into my chest, placing one hand around her waist as we slow danced to the night.

"I've never met anyone like you," I chuckled, twirling her again.

"That's because there's not anyone like me. I am a one and only." She flashed a perfect, toothy grin.

She pulled away slightly, taking my cold hand in her own so they could warm each other.

"I don't disagree." Tonight seemed so crazy. As the air slowly sobered me, I wondered if it would all be the same after tonight.

"I'm glad your friend abandoned you and you asked me to have a drink. I don't know how to explain it but when you are around, I feel like nothing bad can happen."

"I'm glad, too," I replied, as we continued to walk. "I actually need to thank Rosalie." I rolled my eyes, knowing she would be gloating for years.

"Here we are; this is my place," Alice whispered, as we reached her apartment building; my place was just around the corner. Alice let go of my hand, climbing the two steps and I joined her beside the door, my heartbeat filling my ears, my mind and heart shouting, _do something!_

"Alice," I blurted out, playing with the end of my sleeve. "I always wanted to ask… What does your tattoo mean?"

"Ohh." She gasped in surprise, pulling up her sleeve, looking at the simple outline as if checking it was still there, inked into her skin. "I think we live our lives in stages; some better than others. The changing of the moon reminds me that the moon isn't afraid of change. That, and I just really like the moon."

If I could give her the moon, I would. "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey, that's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary," I quoted _It's a Wonderful Life_.

Alice grinned, never missing a beat she spoke. "I'll take it. Then what?"

"Well, then you can swallow it, and it'll all dissolve, see… And the moonbeams would shoot out of your fingers and your toes and the ends of your hair… Am I talking too…?"

The last of the quote was muffled, as Alice placed a gentle kiss against my lips. I moaned into her mouth as she wrapped her arms around my neck and my hands found their place on her hips.

At least now I knew… I was still in love with the bartender.

**A/N Hope you enjoyed reading please leave a review if you can. They are continuous inspiration to me and I love knowing what you guys think. **


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